


Noble Rogues

by LithiaDeLaSunset



Category: Heist Society Series - Ally Carter, White Collar
Genre: Heist Society - Freeform, Katarina (Kat) Bishop, Multi, Neal Caffrey - Freeform, OC, Romance/Friendship - Freeform, W.W.Hale V, White Collar - Freeform, crime/drama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 21:24:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1137549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LithiaDeLaSunset/pseuds/LithiaDeLaSunset
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal is sent to follow a lead on a high-profile heist only to discover the crew to be a bunch of teens. What happens when he makes instead of breaks them and is forced to flee with them, & what do two of the greatest thieves in the world, the Kat & the Hat, discover between them? Moreover, a new thief steps into their life to complicate things: and she may just fancy Hale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Noble Rogues**

* * *

_Ch.1: The Other Thief  
_

It was a con, of course. A long con. Kat and crew had planned it for months, and it was brilliant. It was beautiful, frankly. Neal still appreciated the skill needed in the art of The Life. This was no exception. Mozzie agreed. Alex and Hugh were in town, and they agreed as well. And they hadn't been the culprits. No one knew who had except the perpetrator/s. The thief or thieves, whoever they were, were great thieves, or a great thief, with phenomenal skill. It almost hurt Neal's ego. Instead, it made him wish he was a free man so he could stir the pot himself. This was a party he would have moved to work with.

He couldn't say he recognized the style though. He'd been away too long. Away from the world he thrived in and worked through best. Mozzie was feeling around in that world, asking around, listening to anyone that would talk. Of course, there were intriguing whispers. Whispers and hushed conversations that led to the families. But that was the best Mozzie could get. Their world was a secretive one, after all.

…xxx…

* * *

Kat stared in surprise at the second pair of blue eyes before her. They belonged to a petite ginger girl with a light sprinkle of freckles on her fair skin. Her hair was twisted into a bun, her clothes nondescript. She stood on the balls of her feet, her narrowed eyes calculating and cunning, her baby-face sly, as she sized Kat up and vise versa.

"Kat, what's going on in there?" Simon's voice flared in her ear through the earpiece.

"Slight complication," she replied, continuing to watch the other girl. They did not take their eyes off of each other.

Kat felt a presence over her shoulder, and without turning, she knew Hale had slipped inside. He came to stand abreast of her, eyeing the other girl.

"Kat, look at you making friends without me. And who's this?"

The other girl tipped her head sideways.

"So you're the noble thief, the cat burglar turned Robin Hood's daughter," she turned to Hale, "and you must be one of her band of merry men. Or rather, men and women. You know, there's talk about you. It's touching, really."

"And you would be?" Hale persisted.

"That's for me to know and you to find out." She jerked her head at the eighteenth century jewel-encrusted jewelry box in the room. "You win this time. I know when I'm made."

She walked the length of the room, towards the opposite doorway. "Just remember, Kitten, curiosity isn't favorable towards the cat."

And then she was gone. A second later, the alarms went off. Kat swore. Luckily, the security around it was less severe than that of the actual building. Working with Hale, she stayed calm, and they had it free and in their possession in less than half a minute, and then they, too, were gone.

…xxx…

* * *

The projector clicked over another slide. "This was the item taken, an eighteenth century jewel-encrusted jewelry box. Now I know that we normally deal with White Collar crimes and this may not seem like one. However, this item is very rare, and the skill it took to execute this heist..."

Neal interrupted Peter. "The skill level is incredible. The plans and methods had to be...brilliant, frankly. Whoever did this is not some petty crook or common criminal. We're looking for someone like, well...me."

Neal shrugged nonchalantly. "Anyway, Mozzie hasn't come up with anything yet."

The lights flickered back on and the screen went dark. The assembled agents began filing out. Peter made his way over to Neal, who had his hands shoved deeply into his pockets. "Did you notice anything in the crime scene photos? Any details?"

"I told you, I don't recognize the style. But this took time," his voice grew animated, one of his hands came up to accompanying his words with gestures, " This was a long con. Not a close quarters one, but for the planning. The detail this had to take...the casing had to be carefully played. The security is some of the best there is. You have your hands full."

"And you're saying you could have done this?" Peter confirmed. "So these would be your kind of people?"

Neal rolled his shoulders and smoothed his hair back. "No Peter, you know I haven't been back down that road."

"Just checking. I trust you Neal. Could you find whoever did this?"

"The thing is, we have a code, Peter, and this looks like it might be one of the best. We don't just-"

"Neal," Peter said seriously, "we need you on this. You and Mozzie. We need your expertise. The culprit or culprits are probably in deep in the world you come from. We need this. There are any number of skilled thieves that could have done this, many faceless. This is top priority. Bigger and bigger heists are going down and we are _floundering_. I can shave two whole years off if you help me on this.  _Two years_ , Neal, think about it."

"Ok, Peter, we'll see where this goes," he gave in quietly. He hated hunting down one of his own if they weren't some scum bag. But being tied down by his ankle for two fewer years was highly appealing.

"Great," Peter said, somewhat relieved.

"I'll need to go check in with Mozzie," Neal told him quietly, hoping he could go alone. He might be turning them in, but he wanted to get close and quench his own curiosity first. "You know how he feels about suits." Peter drug his hand down his face. After a moment, he waved Neal away.

"All right, all right. Go by yourself, but you report back here as soon as you can. No funny business, or the deal's off."

"I know."

He left the office, taking the elevator down and editing the building. He decided to stop by his place to get one of his hats. He pushed the door open, only to find Mozzie perusing his wine selection once more.

"I'm not going to have any left if you keep coming by here," he remarked as he picked up a fedora and tilted it on his head.

"Well, your wine  _is_  better than mine. But this is a bit bitter," the shorter man noted, wafting the wine under his nose before taking another sip.

"So have you heard anything new? About the new talent in town?" Neal asked as he uncorked the bottle and poured some for himself, sitting across from his friend. Mozzie set his glass down, tracing the rim.

"Word is that it has something to do with one of the old families." Neal sat forward. "You mean..?"

"One of the ones that's been at the art for centuries, passing on the family trade? Yes. And you know as well as any of us that no one messes with the families. It's like holding onto a grenade and hoping it won't blow you to bits." He took another sip. "Rumor also has it that there was competition for the box. Two thieves got there at the same time, but the thief with a crew-the one from one of the families- won out."

"How did you get this intel?" Neal swished his wine around.

"Corbin Hendricks. You know he sits down at quite a few hearths. Hears things."

"And whose hearth has he been sitting at lately?"

"You know Corbin; he doesn't kiss and tell."

"Do you know if any of the families are in town?"

"No one's just going to give up information like that easily," Mozzie replied evasively.

"Come on, Moz," Neal urged, "if anyone knows something, you do." Mozzie took a rather large gulp of his remaining wine, setting the glass down with finality and leaning back in the chair. Finally, he said,"Do you remember Old Eddie and the Brownstone?"

…xxx…

* * *

"So do you know of her?" Kat posed as Uncle Eddie set a bowl of soup down in front of her before moving on to serve the others. "Does she sound familiar?"

"No," said Eddie gruffly. "But she sounds like trouble."

"No kidding," Gabrielle muttered, "She let us snag the goods but nearly got us caught."

"Blimey," Angus breathed.

"Thought we'd get to blow something," Hamish admitted dejectedly.

"I honestly wouldn't put it past her to come after it," Hale commented seriously over the edge of his mug, "She had that look about her."

Simon pushed his glasses further up his nose. "It was a close call."

"Too close," Nick commented. "I don't like it."

Uncle Eddie suddenly spoke up sharply. "If you're going to come in, do so. There'll be no hovering here."

He glanced just as sharply at the shadowed hallway. There was a low chuckle, and a new voice said,"Are we interrupting something?"

"Only our family meal," Nick said pointedly.

"State your business," Eddie said firmly, staring hard at the same general area as before.

A nervous looking man stepped forward. He wore glasses, a messenger bag slung over one shoulder, and had hair only around the rim of his head. Uncle Eddie relaxed slightly, but his eyes remained narrowed. "Mozzie," he said slowly. "I remember you from the old days. Who've you brought with you into my home."  _'Who have you exposed my family to?_ ' Silently rang through the air accusingly.

Another man emerged, the seeming complete opposite: confident and at home, stepping easily into the light as if he owned the brownstone. Hale tensed. The man was young, tall, and attractive, a fedora tilted cockily over almost-curly waves of neatly groomed brown hair and sparkling blue eyes. "We apologize," he said winningly, smiling. His hands were in his pockets. He had been the one to initiate the conversation. Uncle Eddie squinted, then tensed and grew grim.

"Neal Caffrey. Once a great thief, now a suit pet leashed at the ankle. How dare you,  _how_  dare you."

Neal held his hands up in surrender. "You wound me. Can't I be nostalgic and miss the Old World? Can I not wish to see a few familiar faces?" His tone was set to charm, his youthful face almost pleading. He had a playful air about him, and a nonchalant cheerfulness.

"Your reputation is questionable now," said Eddie bluntly, moving to stand at the head of the table, all the while watchful of Neal as if might be an assassin. In a manner of speaking and by the sound of things, he might have very well been. He knew he had to play his cards right. These people didn't trust easily. There was an honor and code among thieves and people like them. The problem was that that all evaporated when you had to dabble at putting away some of your own to get your own chains broken. Every member of Kat's circle had their ears tuned, listening tensely. How much had the newcomers overheard? It was a dangerous gamble for both sides.

"None of these would be familiar to you at the moment, and you would do well to forget you saw them if you have." Uncle Eddie was all business, all harsh edges and hardness. Neal stepped further into the room.

"Well perhaps I can make a few friends," he pursued lightly. Mozzie pursed his lips and stationed himself to the corner awkwardly. Something was off, he could tell. Eddie new about Neal, yes, but something didn't feel right. In all his years, he knew no one acted like that unless they were protecting someone big time. Added with their talk...

"Can't be," he mumbled. Neal turned to him questioningly. "What was that, Moz?"

"We need to leave, now."

"Now you make some sense," Eddie said. Neal started to protest, but Mozzie grabbed him and practically drug him from the room and down the block into an alley.

"What was all of that about?" Neal said. "He was on the hot seat."

"Yes, exactly, Neal. What did all of that tell you?"

"That the kids know the crew? I dunno, Moz, you tell me." Mozzie stepped forward, hands outstretched helplessly.

"Neal, the kids  _are_  the Crew."

For the first time in his life, Neal felt a few very strange things at once. He felt like an idiot, a traitor, completely screwed, and his life slipping away through his fingers.


	2. The Warning

**Noble Rogues**

* * *

_Ch.2: The Warning_

What could Neal do? He wanted his own life back, his freedom, but he also knew he could never live with himself if he turned over that young crew. They were teens, but he doubted an organization needing to make an example of someone would care. For all he knew, they'd be tried as adults. And then there was the fact that they had to be brilliant. Everything made more sense, in retrospect. Eddie's attitude and the environment they had created by walking in. He didn't know what to do. He was utterly terrified: it was a group of bright rising stars, or four more years in jail. And then what? Perhaps Peter would...no, he would never believe he had found  _nothing_. But what could he do?

Warn them. He had to warn them. And they had to run like hell, if they had any sense to go with their smarts.

…xxx…

* * *

"So he used to be one of the best?" Kat was curious, and she was not alone in that curiosity. Every crew member was attentive, all eyes trained on Eddie. The doors had been secured, the perimeter checked, and their soup finished. Their empty bowls sat on the table before them.

"Yes. He had a wonderful talent, potential. He was a great thief, among other things. But then he got caught. Now he helps the suits take down other cons-white collar deals."

"He heard too much," Gabrielle worried her lip. "He might get an epiphany."

"I think Mozzie already had it for the both of them," Hale replied shrewdly, to which Uncle Eddie nodded.

"Mozzie knows the codes. He may keep the knowledge in confidence."

"But for how long?" Simon wondered aloud.

No one could answer him.

…xxx…

* * *

The sounds of the park blared around Neal as he disclosed everything he knew that he actually wanted to share.

"Nothing?" Peter said with a hint of disbelief, "Nothing at all? I find that hard to believe. Surely-"

"We used a few connections, but nothing. No one seems to know anything besides the fact that whoever did this was really good. I'm sorry, Peter," Neal shrugged.

"Neal," Peter began seriously, "You know you have to get this as much as we do."

"Yeah, you seem to keep reminding me." He walked away from Peter, down one of the trails. Despite his watching exactly where he was going, a young woman seemed to come out of nowhere and bump into him.

"Oh, how clumsy of me," she said, batting her lashes at him. That was when Neal recognized her, and he knew she knew him. She clasped his hand, wrapping her fingers around his and covertly sliding a piece of paper into his palm. "It's just what above ground travel can be like. You know what I mean?"

She looked into his face expectantly. Neal stared, then said, "Yeah, underground's always better."

The woman smiled and sashayed off.

Neal continued onward, stepping into an alcove by an archway. He quickly unfolded the slip. Not much was written on it. It said:

_**Descent between Chance Harbor and Beagle's Run in 1 hour** _

Usually streets had numbers, the grid lines easy to follow, but some had names like these. And apparently Neal had to find them. It seemed he and the Crew had made each other. And no one wanted to see his face at the Brownstone, so the next best thing was to meet in one of the blind spots of the law: the underground. There weren't enough people to man the entire system, and the surveillance was patchy at best where it existed, in much need of an upgrade. Neal allowed himself a smile. The kids weren't stupid, they were cautious. And he would actually get to meet them instead of barging in, and get the feel of them.

He found Mozzie, and then they arrived ten minutes early to wait. The shorter man kept fidgeting, glancing around. They were watching from a secluded corner of the station, which happened to have a total of three broken cameras all facing other directions. It was a busy time, with no one paying them any attention.

"You're early."

The two men turned to see the young woman from the park.

"You just keep bumping into me, don't you?" Neal said, though his smile didn't reach his eyes. She tossed her long hair, rolling her eyes.

"Follow." She instructed. She turned and began stalking away.

"Well, come on," Mozzie said, and they followed.

She led them into the dingy bathroom, where the light blinked on and off at intervals. The room was already full with the rest of the crew. The door swung shut behind them.

"I think we have a pretty good idea of each other," the suspicious golden boy from the table said, stepping forward and lifting his chin, eyes hard as he gazed at Neal. Neal met it with his characteristic smile.

"You pulled that last heist," Neal acknowledged. "It took great skill. I admire that."

"Are you going to out us?" Another voice asked bluntly, and a petite blue-eyed young woman stepped forward, dark hair framing her face.

Neal cut in, holding his hand up.

"We can have this conversation later. Or not at all. I came here to warn you. Peter and the FBI want this. They are on this case and they are not backing down. And you need to get away smoothly before they can figure out that I've been covering for you."

Leader girl straightened, her surprise clearly evident, shock rippling trough the others.

"We can trust you just about as much as we can trust that inconvenience from the other night, or some suit." The young man that had challenged Neal upon both of his arrivals interjected harshly, his tone clipped.

"I'm telling you, you need to leave no matter what before this all comes down."

"How do we know you're not setting us up right now?" a boy with glasses blurted. They were sizing him up, and he them. Mozzie, who had merely been watching, came forward.

"I know he doesn't have the best of reputations right now, but he's right. He's not going to double cross you on this. I like the Feds about as much as you do, so about a little less than not at all. You need to leave. He doesn't want to bust you. He's sacrificing his own freedom here."

There came a sudden knock at the door which made them all freeze.

"Neal?"

"Peter," Neal whispered, horrified.

"Your handler?" The boy who had made the meal retort hissed softly, horrified as the rest of his hang. "What's he doing here?"

Neal slowly closed his eyes, jerking up a pant leg. The anklet tracker flashed into view.

"Shite," one of the Scottish brothers swore.

"Bloody hell," the other paled.

"Neal, who are you in there with? I tracked you here and I hear voices."

"Make him go away," Mozzie said desperately.

"We're screwed," the leggy woman remarked.

"Open this door, Neal," Peter called from outside, and the door began moving as he jiggled the handle. Suddenly it stopped, punctuated by an intake of breath, a thump, and then a second thump as something hit the door. There was a dragging, and then momentary silence.

"Mind opening up?" a peculiar sounding voice asked.

"It's that girl," leader teen said, surprised.

"The other thief?" Neal said. He turned and opened the door. There the other petite thief stood, one Peter Burke slumped at her feet, unconscious. "Horse tranquilizer," she shrugged.

"Horse- you could kill him!" Leggy gasped. The loner rolled her eyes. "Please, it was an unconcetrated small dose. He'll have one hell of a headache though," she noted carelessly, shrugging. Mozzie's hands rose to clutch either side of his head. "You just tranquilized a suit. We're all dead now."

"I'm sorry-I didn't know you were such a cry baby, or that I needed your approval. Now come on. You need to get on a plane out of here. Our philosophies on life might differ, but we still have our honor, and Uncle Fergus worked with your father and Uncle once or twice back in the day."

"You're a Henderson!"

"We'll all be convicts in about five minutes if you lot don't move your arses," the Henderson girl snapped, holding the door open.

"What about Caffrey?" Eddie's leader niece asked. The crew froze.

 _"What about him?"_  The Henderson's voice twanged with impatience.

"We can't leave him. He came to warn us."

"He's tagged," she retorted.

"Simon can free him," she argued.

"Can we have this argument somewhere else?" Mozzie frantically interrupted. They ran, all of them, leaping over Peter.

"You're so going to prison," Mozzie panted.

"I know," Neal sighed. They took the underground, coming up far away from both the law and the Brownstone.

"Stop!" The leader barked. "Simon, get the tracker off!"

Simon dropped down, and the others sagged to a halt. As Simon fiddled with the anklet skillfully, examining it with an expert eye, Neal said, "You know, now that we're all fugitives, how about I catch your names?"

"You mean now that you are, love," young Henderson countered. "He didn't know that we were there. He can't even take Mozzie. Maybe not you if you can spin a good lie."

"Well, if you're Fergus' niece, then you're Ellie," Mozzie said. Ellie rolled her head to look at him, eyes slitted. "So they tell me."

"What about you?" Neal turned to the leader again.

"Kat," she replied hesitantly. She pointed to Leggy.

"That's Gabrielle. You know Simon-" She pointed to the golden boy with light brown hair-"That's Hale-" The brothers. "Angus and Hamish-" "And that's Nick."

The tracker fell to the ground with a clatter, completely disarmed. Neal knelt down to pick it up as Simon sat back on his hands.

"What do we do now?"

"We keep moving."

Neal stared down at the dismantled tracker in his hands before tossing it away and continuing on with them.

"All of that good wine gone to waste," Mozzie said sadly.

"Well, technically, you don't need to come," Gabrielle said, "Do you? They can't track you can they?"

"Well, no, but I don't have any other...I wouldn't stay on my own with the Feds."

"They'd question him anyway, and they know what he is. I couldn't leave him like that," Neal told them firmly.

"Aw, how touching," Ellie mock-simpered saccharinely. "This isn't time to give a speech on the power of friendship. You have a place here, right?"

The last of what she said she directed at Hale.

"You're not even going to take me to dinner first?" Hale shot back.

"We all know we shouldn't go back to the Brownstone, and Neal can't go home. They're probably watching Mozzie, too, and maybe any of their other friends," Ellie enumerated her logic. "So I'm afraid we'll have to do takeout. You decide if it's my place or yours."

Eventually, they made it safely to Hale's place.

"This is nice," Neal complimented appreciatively. Mozzie agreed, happy when he found a pleasing wine stash.

"I suppose," Hale shrugged. "Personally, I'm more fond of the country estate."

Neal paused in his inspection of a painting hanging on the wall.

"What's a rich boy like you doing in our world? You already have everything you could possibly want."

"Isn't it obvious?" Ellie cut in curtly. "It's fun, boss. I'm sure he gets a thrill just thinking about it."

Hale twitched distastefully. "I can speak for myself, but thank you for the consideration."

That seemed to put Ellie out for a moment.

Hale pulled out a phone, flipped it open, and began dialing.

"You had electronics?" Mozzie sounded exasperated.

"It's untraceable," Hale replied flippantly. "We all have one for communication purposes only. I'm calling Marcus. We need to disappear...or at least hide in plain sight. Which means getting out of the city and to the rural estate."

"Where's the box?" Ellie pipped up.

"With Uncle Eddie, of course, ready to be sent where it needs to be," Kat replied shortly.

"Ooh, miss noble is touchy, isn't she? You think you're better than me because of how or why you steal? You're still a thief and a con; get over it."

Kat stepped forward coolly. "A  _great_  thief. You only got in that building riding on our coattails. You couldn't crack it on your own."

"You shouldn't fight," Neal interrupted quietly. Hale had walked down the hallway to get some quiet, and had yet to return. They could hear him as he described the situation rather neutrally to Marcus.

"Yes, Sir, Mr. Snitch, sir," said Ellie nastily.

"Excuse me, but, why are you here?" Gabrielle shot bitingly at her.

"The same reason Hale Dearest steals; I want to be. It's fun, really. Besides, like I said, I pay my debts."

"Well your debt is paid, and you're not invited."

"Gabrielle," Kat said, "we may not like her or trust her, but we couldn't have gotten away cleanly without her. And it's better if we can watch her."

"I don't like it," Nick said, "but I suppose I don't have to. You're the boss, Kat."

"Besides," Ellie added, "the families stick together, like each other or not. We have a common enemy; I don't want any coppers breathing down my neck, neither do you, and you're my ticket out...and all of you aren't a pain." She said the last part as Hale returned.

"Marcus can be here soon. He thinks we should get some rest first though. Who's up for raiding the kitchen?"

"Thought you'd never ask," Angus said brightly.

"I'm starving," Hamish announced.

"I could go for some pizza bagels," Simon contributed.

"There's a deep dish party sized with varied crust and extra cheese," Hale offered.

"I'm in," Nick assented, standing.

"Classy," Neal said sarcastically.

"Food is food, even if it isn't five stars, as long as it isn't terrible, I'll go for it," Mozzie commented.

They all went about doing something, packing or making some call or preparation, until the pizza was done. Hale made a fine oven pizza, and Ellie made a fine kitchen hoverer, staying in and buzzing around him. When it came, no one spoke, eating mechanically and cleaning up mechanically, separating into places to crash until Marcus arrived. Except for Kat and Neal; Neal, who swished wine around in a glass absentmindedly, staring out across the city from the balcony, and Kat, who sat on the other side on a chair, her knees drawn up to her chest.

"How long?" The question hung in the somewhat chilly air a few minutes before Neal answered.

"Long enough."

"I've been at the life since I was a toddler," Kat whispered, not understanding why she was telling him anything. She owed him nothing beyond his freedom for his warning; she did not have to speak to him.

"Really?" He said, genuinely curious.

"I helped case the Louvre when I was three. When I was eight, I went on a trip to Austria to help steal the Crown Jewels."

Neal didn't respond for several long moments. "Do you want to stay in this life?"

"It's a part of me; it's in my blood. I couldn't stop if I tried. So I do better things with what I have."

"A noble thief," Neal shook his head, a sincere smile curving his lips upward. "I usually just took what I wanted. You know, before."

"That's what I used to do. That's still what they do, sometimes. But I don't like taking what isn't mine. So I re-steal things and return them to their rightful owners."

"Robin Hood," Neal whispered. "The choice has its charm, I suppose."

Silence fell for a time. It was peaceful, clear, and crisp.

The wind picked up, and Kat shivered a bit. Neal seemed to notice.

"You should have worn a jacket."

Kat shrugged. The cold kept her mind clear. She hadn't realized she had shared that thought aloud. Neal set his glass down on the small table between the chairs and slipped his jacket off, offering it to her.

"You'd probably actually do better if you weren't shivering from the throes of hypothermia."

The gesture startled Kat. She blinked. "Won't you be cold?"

"Well, it's hardly big enough to share." Kat blushed slightly. Surprised, she stood abruptly. "I should just go inside. You probably want to be alone anyway."

Neal caught her wrist as she was turning. "Stay. Take the jacket. I'll be fine."

Kat found herself not protesting as he guided her back into her chair, settled her in, and tucked her into his jacket. He picked up his glass and paced a bit.

"You know, I didn't graduate highschool," he said suddenly, turning his glass in his hand.

"I've never been to a real school aside from the short time I conned my way into one about a year or two ago," Kat whispered. Neal started.

"You've never been-wow." He took a sip of wine, his voice layered with disbelief. He turned to glance at Kat.

"What about the others?"

She shrugged. "Gabrielle grew up like me for the most part. You'd have to ask the rest of them."

"If they're anything like me, I doubt they'd be so willing to share."

Kat smiled. "You're absolutely right." The smile fell. "I'm not sure what we're doing...or why I trust you."

"It's not a setup...and don't worry, I don't trust you either. But as long as it's past the Statute of Limitations, does it matter?"

"I guess not."

That wordless cloud soundlessly crept over them, and long into the night they stared out over the city, contemplative and on edge, speaking at intervals when they felt the urge. Morning came and Kat awoke to find she had been carried inside some time before sunrise. Neal had left his jacket around her, and he sat back in a recliner across the room, his head propped up precariously by a pillow ready to tumble into the floor.

* * *

She sat up slowly. The penthouse was quiet, the others still asleep. It was early yet, the sky a pastel color pallet. She pushed herself up off of the sofa, picking her way between the bodies encased in sleeping bags that hadn't fit into a bedroom or in one of the chairs, and made it over to Neal's side. She didn't want to wake him, but he seemed so uncomfortable. She hoped he wasn't a light sleeper. She gently slid the pillow out and repositioned it with one arm, his head cradled in the other. When he was settled in a more comfortable looking arrangement, she stifled a yawn and began stepping away. Which was exactly when his eyes opened. He stared at her, bewildered for a second until his eyes lit with recognition.

"I thought you might like those accommodations better," he said, as if she had questioned him. His voice was slightly rough from sleep. He sat forward and cradled his head between his hands.

"What have I done?"

"You know, technically, we kidnapped you," Kat said after a moment, and he lifted his head slightly to see her.

"Technically wouldn't cut it in a court of law."

"You'd be surprised what will cut it."

"You're due for an update on the law, then," Neal countered. He stood carefully, attempting to keep himself from crowding Kat, who still hovered very close by. His suit was rumpled, and Kat had the sudden strange mental image of a very bedraggled, ruffled, and misplaced bird that had fallen out of a cage. She felt somewhat responsible for him, since both his flight and freedom were by her actions, "You know, if you want to...change or something, I'm sure we can find something in Hale's father'a closet that'll fit you."

Neal stepped unconsciously closer.

"I don't know that Hale would appreciate that, Kat."

Something twisted inside of her at the sound of him saying her name. It was invigorating

"I'm sure he won't mind."

"You're the boss," Neal smiled, gesturing for her to lead the way. Kat grabbed his hand before she could think about the gesture, pulling him behind her in a path away from the field of sleeping criminals and into Hale's parents' room, the only one that no one had entered to sleep in. Kat pulled away as soon as she reached the door, heading for the huge walk-in closet.

Neal followed her in, inspecting each article until he picked out something he didn't mind wearing...well, truly he wouldn't have minded any of it, since the Hales appeared to only purchase the best. He looked up just in time to see Kat stretching above her head to reach a stylish fedora he had spotted. He watched her struggle a moment, and then he reached over her to get it.

"I have it!" She snapped.

Neal pulled back, forced to watch yet again. After a minute of it, he went up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her up. She snatched the hat quickly, saying nothing when he set her down. If Kat didn't seem like she might not take it so well, he might have cracked some witty remark. Instead, he simply said, "Thank you."

Kat, for her part, tried to hide her embarrassment, happy he had said nothing. I'll leave you to yourself."

When she returned to the main room, the others had stirred, but since as per usual no one went into the wing where Hale's parents stayed when they actually used the penthouse, they were all using Hale's shower or the guest shower. Kat sighed. It was going to take forever to get a turn. Mozzie appeared to have gone and returned mysteriously under cover of dark before dawn, a packed bag by his feet and a new change of clothes on his back.

"Don't worry; I went to one of my safe locations. I wasn't followed."

He turned the television on, and Kat went to find some of her things that she had left around the place, padding back to the master bedroom to ask Neal if she could get in the shower once he finished.

She opened and closed the room door, padding to the bathroom and knocking. The water didn't stop, so she tried again, listening for a response. After a few seconds of further silence, she leaned against the door in defeat. It opened abruptly, making Kat fall forward and come into contact with wet skin.

Strong hands steadied her, and held her out at arm's length. Kat found herself looking at a Neal Caffrey that had stepped out of the shower to answer the door, a towel wrapped about his waist, his hair slick. She gulped and blushed.

"I wanted to ask if I could use this shower when you were finished. I didn't mean to-"

At that moment, the door opened and Hale walked in.

"Kat, I-"

He stopped in his tracks.

His face rippled with numerous emotions. Neal's grip on Kat slackened and he removed his hands from her arms to raise them defensively. "It's not what it looks like-"

"I'm sure it isn't," Hale said coldly. "Mozzie said he'd seen you come this way, Kat, so I came to check on you. I was going to let you go next, but it seems like you have everything straightened out."

He strode rather calmly out of the room, the door closing with a click. Kat and Neal looked away from each other.

"Well that went well," Neal said, running his hand through his hair. His eyes darted to Kat.

"Your boyfriend?"

"Probably not anymore," she said.

"Look, I'm sorry about that," Neal said, "I'll be through in a minute and you can use it."

Kat nodded. Neal retreated and shut the door, and Kat paced the room until he came out again, this time wearing a robe.

"I'll change in the closet. These doors seem to lack locks."

Kat showered hurriedly, shrugging on her clothes. Neal had gone when she stepped out, and she walked quietly down the hall back to where the tv murmured. Ellie seemed to have slipped out and found her own way to bathe and change, a bag by her feet as well. She and Mozzie neither spoke nor looked at each other, merely staring straight ahead. It appeared that Simon and Gabrielle had gone and showered while Kat and Neal where in the other part of the building. The Bagshaws had gone as well. They were all spread out doing various things, and they all glanced up when Kat entered. Their eyes said it all-the confusion, the uncertainty, the distance.

"I think Hale's trying to drown himself in the shower," Gabrielle said coolly. Everyone went back to doing something so they wouldn't have to stare at her. Gabrielle said no more, going back to painting her nails. Kat shakily went into the kitchen to find Neal perusing the wine rack.

"They're all angry," Kat said, opening the fridge and emerging with a small bottled water.

"I caught on to that," Neal replied, selecting a bottle. "It was like watching the audience to my trial."

Noticing his search for the glasses, Kat opened a cabinet door and offered one to him. Neal stared at it, and then he took it, his fingers brushing over hers.

"You should probably go make sure Richie Rich doesn't pull the stereo into the tub."

Kat couldn't help it: she snorted, rolling her eyes.

"I'm sure he's perfectly fine. I'm also sure this is going to be ugly."

"Right...because you obviously did something wrong. Does he always overreact, or am I somehow threatening?"

His tone was light, joking, but Kat answered anyway.

"I don't know, are you?"

The glass had become forgotten in Neal's hand. His other hand came up, brushing loose strands of hair away from Kat's face.

"He should have more faith in you."

Neal's hand turned to cup Kat's face. He leaned in to whisper conspiratorially by her ear.

"Besides, I would never get caught if those were my intentions."

He pulled away smiling, moving to pour some wine into the glass after he rinsed and dried it.

Kat felt woozy. Having him so close, whispering in her ear...she shook her head to clear it, deciding to check on Hale. Not that he would hurt himself, but there was no telling how far his thoughts might reach or how high his anger might build over the incident.

"Hale?" She called into his quarters. She found him staring out over the balcony of his room. He didn't answer at first. When he did, his voice was frighteningly calm and low.

"I'm going to give you a chance to explain this to me."

Kat took a deep breath. "All right, well..."

She told him exactly what the situation had amounted to, with no showers at hand.

"That's all?" The relief was evident.

"That's all."

There was a knock at the door. They glanced at each other before Hale said, "Come in."

Neal opened the door a sliver, paused, and then opened it the rest of the way, stepping into the room and closing the door. Hale stiffened, scowling slightly.

"Yes?" Kat and Neal both could tell he didn't like the other.

"You have a wonderful woman in her. You shouldn't judge her by misconceptions."

Hale bristled, but nodded curtly.

"I assure you, it was an accident," Neal continued. His eyes slid to Kat's, which Hale seemed to notice.

"Of course it was." By his tone, his fists probably wanted to improve Neal's facial features by pounding against them rather forcefully. Neal seemed to sense as much, but he kept his collected bravado.

"And I assume it won't happen again?"

Neal shifted his weight, keeping a straight face as he said, "Not unless the cat wants to climb into the hat."

Kat blushed and Hale started forward angrily. Kat stepped between them. Hale tried moving her, and just then the door opened and simon peeked his head in. He took one look and almost withdrew, but delivered his message anyway. "Marcus is here."

"Well then, we better leave," Neal said. He extended his hand forward, gesturing that Hale proceed first. Probably so he wouldn't get blindsided. Hale seemed about to say something, but then seemed to think better of it, moving out of the room as quickly as possible.

Neal quirked his eyebrows and sent Kat a glance that would have been apologetic if not for the unapologetic mischief gleaming in his eyes. Kat found that infuriating, but refreshing. He was so like Hale...yet so unlike him. He was much more playful, although his witty utterances left her knees wobbling the same way. She scowled. She has a boyfriend. It didn't matter how much more pronounced his torso was, which she had discovered when her hands had flown up to keep her from completely face-planting into his bare wet chest. He was charming. He was like Gabrielle, flirting because it was a part of him, and he used it when he could, just like she did. Kat sighed. The sooner her debt was paid, the better.


	3. Where's Anastasia

 

**Noble Rogues**

* * *

_Ch.3: Where's Anastasia?_  
  
  
  
They left by the private entrance, hats and sunglasses on, or scarves wrapped around their heads, quickly piling into the awaiting limo and swiftly closing the doors, blessing the tinted windows. Ellie sat up front with Marcus, leaning back, iPod on and earphones in, beret perched atop a wig of seemingly natural blonde hair, glasses covering more of her face than any of the others, and Kat wondered why she was so much more heavily disguised than the rest of them. Surely the passenger window was tinted as well? The crew sat in the back: Simon and Gabrielle sat with Mozzie and Hamish, while Angus sat against the window. Kat sat between Hale and Neal, much to the former's chagrin. She hadn't done it purposefully, though. The others had scrambled in that way, and by the time the last three had arrived, there was no moving, only speeding away. They were all anxious to be off. Though Hale loved his country estate, even he agreed that they had neither the time nor the security to stay. They needed to take a Hale family jet somewhere far away. They were all dressed professionally as possible, and Hale and Marcus planned to be bustled through if they had to visit a public airport. No one would dare stop him and the children of Hale business associates and clients. Not if they wanted a life.  
  
Luckily, there existed a Hale-family owned private airport for their employees and clients, and of course Hales, and no one was using it that day. They strode purposefully across the way, wasting no time boarding or getting settled. Soon, they were on their way. As it happened, Kat ended up with Neal again by chance, this time due to Ellie claiming the seat beside of Hale's. Gabrielle sat with Simon once more, the twins with each other, Mozzie with Nick, and Marcus by himself reading a paper. Ellie never left Hale's side throughout the entire flight (a feat considering the hours spent there). No one slept, instead playing games where they tried their best to cheat each other, or stare out of the windows at the ground far below where it was visible through the clouds. Once they landed in Dublin, they made their way to the townland of Kinard, West Kerry, Ireland, a small, quiet place where sometimes barefoot children could be heard playing in every lane, dispelling the noiselessness and adding to the peaceful atmosphere.  
  
There were few big houses amongst the fields of working people, and the Hale manor here felt almost out of place, standing tall and regal nestled between those and a small wood. All of them felt more at ease, and immediately began musing on what sort of job they would pull next. Hale reluctantly handed Neal, Ellie, and Mozzie one of the untraceable phones, scowling and wanting to ask when they would leave. He didn't know who he wanted to be further away from, Ellie or Neal.  
  
Well he'd be damned if Ellie didn't follow him around all day and quickly change his mind from that standoff to wishing she would slip off. But she was useful and quick, and her cunning was evident. He found he couldn't worry much about Kat and Neal with her on his mind. And there she was again, staring at him as he walked through his own library.  
"Do you have a job in mind, Hale? You never said."  
"I don't share my hand," he replied vaguely as he pulled a book on fire from a shelf, only half interested.  
  
Ellie nicked it from his grasp before he knew what had happened, flipping through it quickly and examining the exterior and interior covers. "It's thorough, and I've seen it before, but it doesn't have everything."  
Hale leaned back against one of the shelves behind him.  
"Oh, and what's it missing?" He had to admit that he was half curious. That book had been surprisingly hard to pluck off of its previous owner. An almost crazed and wildly mischievous smile curved Ellie's pink lips upward. She stepped closer to Hale, placing her hands on either side of him so that he was trapped between her arms. She stared at him, and then leaned in to whisper in his ear.  
"It's one of the many things you could learn, fire instruction. Fire is one of the only things that holds both beauty and destruction. It's an act of love and passion, but also war and chaos...." Hale stiffened as her lips found a small space just below his earlobe to brush against. "Just like a few other things I could name."  
  
She was so very close to him, and it was suffocating. He didn't want to push her away, even if she disturbed him. She was so small and petite, and he was afraid he might shove too hard in his irritation and harm her. Before he could debate the pros and cons of shoving her out of his personal space anyway, she shifted and quick as lightening pressed her lips to his, pinning him against the bookshelf. Her grip was like iron, which surprised Hale. He had clearly underestimated her.  Where had that insane strength come from? Panic seeped in. He didn't want Ellie Henderson pawing at him in his own library. It was shameful. Clearly she wasn't defenseless as he had assumed. In a flash he had squirmed away and flipped her against the bookshelf, holding her at arm's length.  
  
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"  
Defiance, determination, and something else sparked in her eyes, and again he found himself pinned against the shelves. Her fingers wrapped around his wrists like a vice. Her eyes flicked over Hale's features. "I don't play games the fair way," she said quietly, and then she kissed him again, the forceful fierceness melting into a gentler pursuit. Hale couldn't help it: he reacted to her, arms winding around her to pull her closer. Shame flashed through him. _He didn't cheat_. But by any god or goddess, Kat never did _that_.  
  
And then, speak of the devil, there was a gasp, and said girl's voice rang out accusingly.  
"And _I'm_ the cheater?  Nice one, oh Noble Hale, Lord of the Hypocrites." And then she was storming away before he could even see her properly. He found the strength to push Ellie away at last, but Kat had already gone, the door swinging in her wake.  
  
…xxx…

* * *

  
  
An argument ensued.

* * *

  
  
Everyone was in the large study, with blueprints, newspapers, documents, and newspaper articles from around the world covering the windows and just about every other surface, when it happened. The shouts reverberated throughout the house, and then suddenly they were coherent as Kat and Hale suddenly appeared in the corridor by the entrance.  Ellie slipped into the room quietly from the other entrance, smirking.  
"What did you do?" Gabrielle snapped. The girl merely continued to smirk.  
  
"It didn't mean anything, Kat!"  
"Oh, believe me, Hale, it meant and means a lot, just maybe not to you!  How very fickle you seem to be."  
"Fickle, did you just call me fickle, Kitkat? I didn't ask for that!"  
"You didn't try very hard to prevent it. Just  yesterday morning you jumped down my throat for a completely innocent situation, and then you do _this_."  
"That was different," he replied coldly.  
" _Is_ it?" Kat responded, mimicking his tone and adding a twinge of sarcasm. "If relationships mean so little to you, maybe you shouldn't be in one."  
Hale opened and closed his mouth. The study had gone deathly quiet, the Crew drawn into a grave silence. It was like children watching their parents schism before a divorce. Things were going to change and never be the same again. It was in the air, and they could all feel it with dread.  
"Fine," Hale said at last, quietly and quite emotionlessly and controlled. "If that's what you want. Go crawl in the Hat for all I care."  
  
There came the sound of impact, and somehow everyone knew Kat had struck him. The listeners shifted uncomfortably as Hale stormed off alone and Kat turned to look at them.  
"What are you staring at?" She snapped, and they all quickly found something else to fix their gazes upon or busy themselves with. Kat turned away, something that sounded like a sob escaping before she straightened and stormed off in the other direction.  
  
Neal watched her retreating figure, then stood and excused himself.  
  
…xxx…

* * *

  
  
He found her in the garden, sitting alone on a bench beside an angel statue. She hugged herself, shivering as she stared off into the misting Forest. Neal sat down beside her, keeping to himself and not speaking. He waited patiently, not commenting on her puffy red eyes.  
"You still haven't learned to wear a jacket," he said sat last, trying to be as normal, soothing, and light as possible.  
  
Kat started. "What?" She sounded confused as she turned her face to his. He gestured at her clutching what little warmth she had to her body.  
"It doesn't matter. I can barely feel it."  
She went back to staring out towards the wood, watching the mist drift further out towards the moor.  
"Is that why you're shivering and your skin is icy to the touch," Neal whispered, feeling strangely responsible for her. Perhaps he felt he still owed her. Kat snorted and turned her face towards him again, elbow digging into her knee as she used her arm to prop up her head.  
"No matter what I do, someone always seems to call me out for something.  Why do you say I'm freezing to the touch?"  
Neal shrugged elegantly. "Lucky guess?"  
Kat chuckled, wiping her tears away. Neal reached forward and gently swiped away one she had missed. His hands were warm, and suddenly she realized she _was_ cold, quite cold, and his jacket looked more and more inviting by the moment. Suddenly she wished she had it around her shoulders, even if she had to share it.  
  
Seeming to sense as much, Neal began shrugging it off. She placed her hand on his shoulder, shaking her head. "That's all right. You don't need to do that."  
Neal paused, seemed to think for a moment, and then hesitantly draped his jacket over her shoulder, clasping his hands in his lap so he wouldn't touch her by accident. Their knees bumped gently, their sides brushed with a shift or a breath, and neither spoke. Neal stared off at the woods, too, trying to see what she was seeing.  
"How long have you known each other?" Neal asked her, and didn't have to specify for Kat to know he meant Hale.  
"A while now," she answered evasively. Neal laughed humorlessly.  
"I had a girlfriend, once," he shared quietly. "Her name was Kate.  I once even broke out of jail for her, with only about four months left to serve."  
"What happened?" Kat prompted curiously. Neal closed his eyes sadly, swallowed unpleasantly, grimacing, and Kat wished for all the world that she had not asked.  
"She was murdered. The plane she was on was blown up, and I should have been on it with her. "  
  
Kat surprised herself by gripping her fingers tightly around his and squeezing. "You were exactly where you should have been. You were meant to live."  
  
Neal said nothing. What could he, really?  He had conversations like this before, with someone telling him it had been arranged with the universe for Kate to die that day and for him to live. His eyes traced over Kat's features. She truly did look devastated. She had lost someone she loved too. He couldn't help but notice that she happened to be rather easy on the eyes as well as being a skilled thief and brilliant con artist. He wondered what other skills she possessed, how many heists she had pulled and crimes she had committed. She had been at it literally all of her life. He was the child in their world, and she the elder. He knew he was good, one of the best, a _great_ thief, among other things, talked about in classrooms. But so was she, minus the last bit, and he felt they could teach each other so much.  
  
He almost wished he had been born into a family. It didn't matter, really. The teen seemed to have a penchant for finding strays, judging by the sheer volume of non-blood "relatives". The blood of the coven is thicker than the water of familial bonds.....how ironic, how darkly humorous. Blood relation didn't make family, people who would bleed and cry for you did. Her Crew were like Mozzie and Alex, and how Kate had been, and hell, he couldn't forget bumbling little Hugh, who had shown up trailing after Alex like some lost puppy.  
  
Kat cleared her throat, drawing his attention back to the present and out of his thoughts. "Neal?" She seemed hesitant. His eyes darted directly onto hers. She sighed. "How did you get over Kate?"  
  
"I didn't," he replied softly, barely pausing. "I still carry her with me. You just have to walk around with the cracks in you until something good comes along. I went with a woman named Sara for a time, and I've had flings with an associate by the name of Alex, but other than that.....I don't know what to tell you, Kat, besides trying to relearn how to live without that person every day after you wake up. That's what happens when it meant something."  
Kat shook her head furiously, not in disagreement, but frustration.  "I don't know what to believe. I think Ellie pulled some kind of crap, but I don't know that we can work it out....I think I'd have to try something else to know."  
  
Her eyes were distant, and then they flicked to observe Neal. Her hand still held his, and her eyes transferred to glance at their fingers. Neal understood.  
"No, no...," he almost stood and left, but he couldn't leave her in that state. "Why me? Why not Nick or Simon? Are you trying to make him jealous, or do what you were accused of?"  
"Nick and Simon, and Angus and Hamish, of course, are all too close, like family. I didn't mean to sound like I wanted to use you-"  
"Who said I wouldn't let you?" Neal replied silkily, smirking that flirtatious invitation of his that had charmed many a woman and a man in a con. Kat rolled her eyes and laughed, turning abruptly and hugging him.  
"Thank you," she whispered into his shirt, "You make me laugh when no one else can, you infuriating-"  
"Ah-ah," he interrupted, placing a finger over his lips.  
"Such things shouldn't leave beautiful lips."  
Kat tilted her head backward. "What would you know about beautiful lips?"  
"Plenty," Neal supplied confidently. "Prove it," Kat bantered back, both of them completely taken aback when Neal met the challenge out of habit and instinct and gently pressed his lips to hers. They both froze, eyes meeting as their breath met in a cloud between them, warm against each other's lips.  
  
And then it happened.  
  
That spark everyone talks about.  
  
The flare of butterflies and passion everyone, every damned lovesick hopeless romantic, dreamt of. That beautiful, frantic, destructive chaos.  
  
Their lips met, re-met, picked up meeting as a habit. Neal drew her closer, his arms sliding gently around her. It was amazing what pain, attraction, and kindred spirit association coupled with what was only dreamt of did. If they had been inside somewhere and not outside in the snow.....or interrupted by an angry gasp-hiss-choke-swear-whatever. Neal and Kat jolted apart to see Hale, who had quickly morphed from apologetic to angrier than ever before.  
  
"Now who's cheating?  You probably couldn't wait for an excuse, could you, Kat?"  
"Hale-"  
"Don't bother," he dismissed, and then he was gone, back to the house to brood, and maybe break things. Kat, who was still in Neal's arms, looked into his eyes. And then they both knew it didn't matter anymore,  that there existed only what they had kindled before them, and pain, and Kat could only think about not thinking about Hale. She wished she could prove him wrong, but he needed to apologize. So she focused on the buttons of Neal's fancy red suit shirt, and he worried about making her forget while he calmed her frantic hands into a less chaotic frenzy.  
"You're upset. You should just go think things through, and then-"  
"Shut up." Her voice was harsh.  
"You probably don't really want-"  
She kissed him again, longer, slower, and then drew away, watching him. He looked down and then back up at her.  
"I'd rather have something." She affirmed.  
Which made Neal help her to her feet, guide her into the house, and try repeatedly to talk her into her own sense. Of course, that grew old very quickly with her, and when they reached her room, she merely yanked him inside and locked the door.  
  
They stood by the door, Kat almost glaring, as a battle of wills played out.  
"You actually want me to take advantage of you?" Neal said critically. "Because that's what I'd be doing." He smoothed his hair back. "I have been a charmer, and sometimes I've pretended to be....a playboy," he winced at the words, "But I don't do things like this."  
"And you think I do?" Kat challenged. Her eyes were red, bloodshot as if she had been drinking. Of course Neal had slept with people on a whim before-that had been his relationship with Alex many a time-but he knew Kat didn't act like that, not level-headed Kat who had probably never slept with many people at all....not because she was not beautiful or witty enough, but because she wasn't like Hale or Gabrielle, or Neal or Alex.  
  
"No, that's the problem. I know you don't. Have you even...?"  
Kat blushed slightly.  "Hale," she gave as an answer. Neal swallowed.  
"And you want-"  
"Yes. You. Now."  
Neal stared at her, his hands shoved  once more into his pockets as deeply as they could be.  He removed them, let them dangle by his sides momentarily, then raised one to lightly sweep hair behind her ear, trailing his fingers down the side of her face. Then he pulled her into a hug, bending his head by her ear. He held onto her tightly, and Kat was almost convinced nothing would happen and she would merely be comforted. Then his lips brushed against the shell of her ear, and he whispered four words that made Kat shiver.  
"Take off your clothes."  
...xxx…

* * *

  
  
  
Kat discovered that Neal was quite capable of giving comfort as well as....well....  
  
At present, he cradled her against his chest, chin resting on the crown of her head. Everyone once in a while, he would soothe her anew, whether by stroking her hair, rubbing  circles into her back, or kissing her forehead. He hadn't said much. Holding her seemed to convey everything he wanted conveyed. His thumb caressed her face, then the inside of her wrist. Kat appreciate it. He didn't have to stay once it was over. Yet he had, embracing her almost lovingly, making sure she wasn't cold.  
"Thank you," she broke the silence at last.  
"You know you wanted to wear the hat," Neal teased light-heartedly.  
"That's not what I was referring to....but the hat did fit rather nicely."  She matched the cheekiness in his voice.  
"Well, what can I say....we both seem to have good taste.  And you're welcome. I figured you needed someone. I know I did when I lost Kate."  
  
Kat traced a pattern on his hip. "Tell me about her."  
Neal hesitated, then began to haltingly confer anything he could think of. Kat listened intently.  
"You know," he started again after he trailed off, "I usually take a girl to dinner first, or work a job with her, if you count Alex...."  
"You don't have to try to make something work because of Hale-"  
"I wanted to try because of you."  
That shut Kat up. Neal's hand slid to the small of her back and he kissed her again.  
"Eager?" Kat murmured amusedly against his lips. His eyes sparkled as he pulled away slightly.  
"What gave you that idea, Miss Bishop?"  
"The flashlight by my waist, Mr. Caffrey."  
"Well observed."

  
…xxx…

* * *

  
  
While the cat played with the hat, Ellie was trailing Hale again.  
Hale retreated to the library once more. He knew the others wouldn't dare disturb him. No, they would tiptoe around he and Kat for a good while. He pulled down the book on fire he had had earlier and went to sit in an antique wingback chair in the corner. Towards chapter three, he could feel someone coming up on him. His head snapped up, eyes narrowed, to find Ellie standing before him, her face expressionless. Her hand darted out to snatch the book away, place it on the shelf.  
"You've no cause to act all high and mighty now, do you?"  
"Is there a reason that you're here, a good one?"  
One ginger eyebrow rose at his gruffness.  
"So she meant something to you. I'm impressed."  
  
She perched on the arm of his chair. Hale shot to his feet and took a few steps away. Ellie's head tilted to the side.  
"The door's locked."  
"And I can unlock it. Anything with a working appendage could. It's on the inside," Hale enunciated slowly, sardonic. Ellie tossed her hair.  
"Don't patronize me.  You know why I'm here."  
"No, you tell me. Is it to discuss the powers of friendship?" Hale retorted bitingly. Ellie got to him faster than he would have thought, agile, nimble, and quick. He admired that. She would be handy in a heist, in whatever operation they pulled. She stared at him, and before he knew it he was up against a shelf just like earlier.  
"What do you hope to accomplish by these games?" Hale asked curiously.  
"Who said it was a game for me?" Ellie tilted her head sideways. "Maybe I want something from you....and I think I could offer something in return."  
"What could you have to offer me?" Hale sounded as increduous as the expression on his face. Ellie leaned closer, pressing against him.  She stretched up on her tiptoes to reach his ear.  
"Revenge. Hurt her like she hurt you. Show her you don't care. Make it look like it doesn't matter."  
Hale pushed her away. "The thing is, it did matter, to both of us. I'm not so childish that I would purposefully hurt Kat like that. It would be in poor taste."  
  
Ellie stepped back, exposing the back of the black dress she had worn. "Then don't do it for those reasons. Have some fun. Relieve some pain. What could it hurt?"  
Despite himself, Hale approached her cautiously and took the zipper between his thumb and forefinger.  
"I'm not a playboy."  
  
Ellie reached around to pull the zipper down partway, revealing her shoulder blades and a small portion of upper back. "You don't have to be. You don't have to love me. You can hate me. Show all of your hate, your anger. Make me feel your pain."  
She flipped around, practically throwing him in the direction of a nearby table-she was stronger than she looked for her size. Hale stumbled backwards into it, the edge hitting him from behind. Ellie danced up to him, pushing him flat onto his back and crawling on top of him.  
"This could have been so much more painless," Ellie sighed. Hale pushed forward, sending her into the floor.  Her eyes flashed, and she opened her mouth to retort when he knelt beside of her, reaching behind her to unzip the dress the rest of the way.  
"The safe word," he said as he cradled her face and she closed her eyes, "is angel."  
Ellie's eyes opened slightly at that. "How dirty....how wonderful."  
…xxx…

* * *

  
Kat peeked around the corner of the big study doorway, watching the others at work. But something was missing. Then she realized: Hale was missing, and so was Ellie. It didn't seem to take Hale very long to move on. It couldn't have been for revenge or comfort. Ellie didn't have an ounce of the gentle caring Neal possessed, Neal who was even then holding her hand until she was ready to face the rest of the Crew again for the first time since the fight earlier in the day. His fingers curled securely around hers, and she hoped that it meant they could try something together past the physical aspects of their acquaintance. He was very good at giving her compassion and soothing her nerves and grief even if she only asked to lose herself in the rhythms of their bodies. She sighed, and then she stepped into the room.  
  
Gabrielle was the first to look up. Her eyes widened and then narrowed, suspicion evident. The room was quiet. No one knew quite how to address things as they stood. Hell, who would? Everyone was as afraid to know what had gone on as they were curious.  
At that moment, however, whatever would have happened was completely derailed by the arrival of a Ellie leading in Hale by the hand. They shared a long kiss just inside the doorway, where her arms snaked around him and their tongues were clearly in use. Nick cleared his throat loudly and Gabrielle looked ready to kill. She had never liked Ellie, from the first moment, and seeing the expressions on Kat's face made her blood boil in righteous indignation. She didn't know how, but everything was Ellie's fault and doing.  
  
"You little charlatan!" Was out before the thought had fully formed, and then Gabrielle had lunged forward and suddenly there was a shrieking mass and flail of limbs when she landed on Ellie. Kat was across the room in a few quick strides to assist her.  
"Bloodly hell!" Hamish interjected.  
"Holy shite!" Angus swore enthusiastically.  
"Oh dear," Simon fretted.  "This is bad," Mozzie agreed.  
"Kat!" Nick exclaimed. Neal and Hale actually went to pry the three apart, Simon reluctantly following after Nick, too, pitched in.  
None of them were unscathed and no one person was worse for wear. Someone had knocked Simon's glasses across the room. Ellie had a bloody nose, Gabrielle a long scratch on her throat, and Kat a small, blooming bruise on her arm. Someone appeared to have bitten Nick. Hale and Neal merely had bedraggled hair and rumpled suits.  
Neal held Kat tight against him as she glowered at Ellie. Simon had Gabrielle by the wasit, and she glared furiously at Ellie, who was restrained by a shaky Hale. She did remarkably well to have been outnumbered.  
  
  
"Good Lord," Marcus commented, astonished, as he entered the remnants of the altercation.  
"What on _earth_ -"  
"This floozy was hanging all over Hale, no doubt pawing him in some other room, after he and Kat had a fight." Gabrielle told him angrily.  
"We broke up," Hale shrugged.  
"Because you were with her," Kat accused.  
"Don't put this all on me," he flared, "not after I saw you-in my parent's home of all places-before an open bathroom door where _he_ stood with only a towel covering him and the shower running!"  
"That was a misunderstanding! We weren't doing anything wrong!"  
"What, like each other? You're telling me you didn't sleep with him?"  
The air crackled with heated tension.  
"No, not then," Kat snapped, and Hale picked up on what she didn't say.  
"You...you _slept_ with him!"  
"Oh, and Miss Congeniality over  there was only keeping you company and playing Crazy Eights?"  
  
There reverberated the sound of a knock at the front door, the heavy iron knocker almost eerie in the sudden silence that followed.  
"I will answer it," Marcus proclaimed, "if you so wish."  
"Does anyone know we're here?" Neal asked. Surprisingly, Hale answered him. "No.....this is leased to Marcus....no one should be visiting."  
Another knock sounded, and everyone stared at each other, spooked and worried they might be in trouble.  
  
  
"Go into the safe room," Marcus directed, and though no one wanted to leave him alone, they began to do so, walking apprehensively.  
"It's not the cops," Ellie said, "I'll stay."  
And a little pistol with a silencer along with a silver dagger appeared, the former in the left hand and the latter in the right. She nodded, and Marcus exited the room, she following stealthily.  
A few minutes later, everyone returned to the sitting room at the all clear. The pistol and dagger had disappeared, Ellie perched atop one arm of the chesterfield and Marcus stood over the coffee table, a brown package in hand, staring downward. He looked up as they filed in and stood around him tensely.  
"It says," his voice shook uncertainly, _"'Where's Anastasia?'"_  
"Who was at the door?" Simon asked.  
"No one," Ellie replied. When we opened the door, no one was in sight."  
  
"The question is," Nick said quietly, "what does that note on the package mean?"  
"It means," Neal responded softly, "that someone is missing. I think there's something in that package we're not going to like very much."  
"It's probably a ransom message," Mozzie concluded.


End file.
